So after 11 years of glorious singlehood, I decided to do something bold. Something brave. Something that should probably come with protective gear.

I entered the dating scene again.

Now let me tell you something about dating in your 40s. It’s a fascinating social experiment. You have wisdom, life experience, emotional intelligence… and yet somehow you’re still dealing with behaviour that feels like it was imported directly from high school.

Enter Charlie. (Not his real name)

We met on a regular dating site beginning/mid-January. Things started off well. Actually, more than well. We chatted almost every night, had video calls, the conversation flowed easily. There was teasing, laughter, that spark of anticipation you haven’t felt in years.

And then… things got a little heated.

Fast forward to February: we met in person, one thing led to another, and yes we did the deed. Chemistry confirmed. Plans were made to see each other again the following weekend.

And then…

Nothing.

Nada.
Zip.
Zilch.
Total radio silence.

Now look, I’m a grown woman. I’m not new to life, relationships, or the occasional disappointing male specimen. I wrote it off, dusted myself off, and carried on with my life. Sure, there was a moment where I thought, well that was a bit rude… and slightly “I feel used-ish”… but I got over it.

Or so I thought.

Then one random Saturday — a month later — my phone rings.

Guess who. Charlie.

“Hey… how are you? I’ve been thinking about you.”

Now I wish you could hear my tone of voice at that moment. I’m not naturally cold. I’m actually quite warm and bubbly. But at that moment… The Arctic would have sounded tropical compared to me.

Me: “Oh. He’s alive. And his memory is back.”

Him: “I’m sorry… how are you? What are you doing? I’m mowing the lawn.”

Me: “Oh nice. It’s going to rain soon. Hope you get wet.”

Small talk was clearly not going to be the theme of this reunion.

So I simply told him I wasn’t interested in hearing from him again, and I hung up.

Naturally, like any man suddenly discovering consequences for his actions, he called again. And again. Then he moved to WhatsApp.

Charlie: “I’m sorry.”

Me: “Apology accepted. What’s done is done. Please leave me alone.”

Charlie: “What do you mean?”

Me: “More than a month, Charlie. Weeks. The last time I heard from you was when you slept with me… and then nothing. You can figure out the rest.”

Charlie: “I was confused… can we start over?”

Now here’s the thing. It wasn’t the sex. Let’s be clear about that. It was the complete disappearance act afterwards.

Communication went from daily chats to full submarine mode.

And then came the classic twist. Apparently he had “run away” because he felt I had too many issues with my family.

Ah yes.

The famous gaslighting boomerang. That magical moment when someone disappears for weeks… and then returns to explain why it was somehow your fault.

So I told him something very simple:

We all have issues. Life is messy. Nobody arrives at this age with a perfectly polished emotional résumé.

I don’t need someone to carry my burdens. I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.

But what I do want… is someone in my corner. Someone cheering me on. Someone who helps me up when life gets heavy.

What I don’t need? A runner.

So I chose me.

Blocked him on WhatsApp.
Blocked his number.
Then he started calling from private numbers… repeatedly… even after midnight.

Which, if nothing else, confirmed two things:

- My boundaries clearly work.

- Blocking settings on phones are a truly beautiful invention.

Now here’s the funny thing about dating in your 40s.

When you’re younger, experiences like this can make you question yourself.

Did I say too much?
Was I too harsh?
Did I scare him away?

But in your 40s something wonderful happens.

You realise it’s not about being perfect.

It’s about being clear.

Clear about your value.
Clear about your boundaries.
Clear about the kind of energy you allow into your life.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the real secret of dating in your 40s.

You’re not chasing attention anymore.

You’re choosing alignment.

So was I too harsh? Maybe.

But if respecting myself makes me a little intimidating… Then I’ll wear that like a crown.

And if all else fails? There’s always casual hookups.

At least those come with honest expectations and no disappearing acts.